My grandpap, Ross Wiggins, taught me so many things in my life. He wasn't educated, didn't serve in the wars, wasn't a politician, and certainly was not affluent. He was a short, thin man, some would call "wirey", He always had a pocketknife in his pocket and wore a black bowtie everyday of his life. I remember him working as a heater repair man, coming home covered in black dirt from cleaning someone's furnace. He was an ace at fixing small appliances, always having a neighbor's toaster or vacuum cleaner on his workbench. He loved his garden, having the prettiest red flowers and the best kept lawn on the block. When his sons went to war, he maintained a large "honor roll" sign on the front lawn with names of every boy on the block who was serving. And he went to church every Sunday. He was always on the go and didn't let moss grow beneath his feet.